Speed of Sound
by Windchimes of Maple
Summary: St. Raziel's Institute for the Academically Advanced is exactly what it sounds like: a snobby, posh, private, high school out of the city limits. Clarissa Morgenstern is one of the students who is at the top of her senior class. Jace Herondale is the new kid, who she just loves to detest. But why on earth does she find him so damn gorgeous? ClaryxJace. AH/AU/slightly OOC.
1. Chapter 1

_**Yeah okay, so I have another multi chapter going in another category, but this idea has been buzzing in my brain for weeks now and I just had to put it down somewhere because it wouldn't leave me alone. I've never done a completely AU story before, so I'm a little nervous. Hopefully, I haven't screwed it up too much. I hope you guys like it, and do leave reviews so I know what all you like and what I can improve? Yes? Good. This story is M rated for various reasons, which include sexual content, underage drinking and mentions of drug abuse. If that kind of stuff makes you cringe, don't worry, I'll put warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Have a happy read.**_

_**~ Brooke  
**_

_**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable content belongs to Cassandra Clare. I only own plot, slight characterization and OCs.  
**_

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_**Chapter 1  
**_

"Shit," Clary cursed under her breath, the box in her hand feeling much heavier than it looked. What the hell had she packed in there, bowling balls? She staggered with it for a couple of steps before strong masculine arms came from either side of her and took hold of the box.

"Maybe I should take this one?" A deep voice whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

"Yeah, maybe," she replied, letting her boyfriend take the box from her. He had a smug grin on his face as he handled it with ease and she shook her head. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she sent him along on his way and then turned back to the car to get the last bag. Grabbing it from the backseat, she tugged the strap on her shoulder. It dug into her skin, given that she was wearing a loose tank top in the heat of the ending summer, but she didn't really care. She was just very happy to be back at school. Closing the door to her boyfriend's car, she locked the doors and slipped the keys into her pocket.

The parking lot, of St. Raziel's Institute for the Academically Advanced, was milling with activity as students of various ages, ranging from 14 to 18, got caught up in the fanfare she called 'Back to School'. Parents wished freshmen good luck before helping them with their bags; older students paced around, looking for familiar faces. Taxi cab drivers shouted at one another as they brought in some students from airports and the train station. But that's not what she was staring at. In the background of the parking lot, stood the towering building which housed the Institute. With its ten story high turrets, dark brown brick walls and near gothic architecture, most people found it intimidating. It looked like the mansions on hill tops in horror cartoons. The first time she'd stepped into the halls, she'd shook like a leaf because of how creepy it was. But after spending three years in it, the place was like home. Now that she was leaving in another year, she was feeling almost nostalgic about going away.

Taking a deep breath, she tightened the strap on her shoulder and walked across the parking lot, towards the part of the campus which housed the dormitories. Her suite was on the fifth floor, which would have been a maddening climb. Luckily, the old place had modern amenities, like elevators. When she reached her floor, she expected to find the halls deserted. There weren't many people who used the fifth floor, since most of the rooms there were just upper ones of a suite, whose common room was on the fourth floor. And she knew there were only four duplex suites on the fourth floor. There was a girl with dark hair standing in the lobby, a moving box on the floor and two large suitcases at her side. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a plain white shirt but she managed to make even that look like something off the runway. Her dark hair fell in luscious waves down her back, a far cry from the slightly dry red mess which Clary had. A new student, Clary thought as she walked up to her, a smile on her face. The girl turned to her, just as she walked up to the door which she was standing in front of .

"Hi," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Clary. You must be new here. And I see you've met my boyfriend."

Sebastian grinned, throwing a wink at her before gesturing for the girl to introduce herself.

"Isabelle Lightwood, and yes, I am. I'm also pretty sure I'm on the wrong floor but your Sebastian here won't help. I don't think he knows the girls' dormitories," she smiled in a friendly manner, as she held out the piece of paper which had her suite and room number on it.

"Sebastian knows the girl dorms better than he'd like for people to know he does," Clary replied, rolling her eyes as she took the sheet. It said '_4B, 501'_ on it. "Nope, you're not lost. This is the right suite, but it's the upper floor. Come on in, it looks like somebody's finally taking room 501," she added. Lightly pushing Sebastian's chest to move out of the way, she took out her keys (she threw his car keys right back at him) and opened the door.

"It's not your fault. They should seriously label the suite doors on this floor. Except, nobody really uses this floor to enter the suite."

"I know, I noticed," Isabelle said, as she dragged in a suitcase. "What did you mean somebody's finally taking room 501?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" asked Sebastian, propping the other suitcase near the wall as he threw himself on the couch in the room. It was a cozy place, with bare cream walls and thick maroon curtains on the windows. There was a small television and mini fridge in one corner, the couch across from it. On one side was a door which was labeled '502' and right next to it was one labeled '501'. Across from the doors was a banister which opened up into the staircase, leading to the other two rooms on the lower floor of the suite, as well as the common bath and small kitchen.

"Hear what?" Isabelle asked, while Clary put down the dufflebag she'd been carrying. She took out the half finished Coke bottle from her backpack and moved to mini fridge to put it in, while she heard the squeak of springs as Isabelle sat down too.

"Some freshman moved into 501, about two years ago. She was this super sweet chick who everybody liked and stuff. But then one night they were watching this horror movie and that same night -"

"Oh, you are so full of shit. Ignore him, Isabelle," Clary said, turning around. "He likes to think he's incredibly funny, too. All I meant was that nobody's been allotted that room in two years," she said.

Turning to Sebastian, she added, "For _no_ haunted reasons. Go make yourself useful and buy us something to stock the fridge with," she said, nudging him on the chest.

Sebastian looked horrified as he got up, shaking his head.

"You're using me for food and free rides, I swear, Morgenstern," he said, before skipping the charade and dropping a quick peck to Clary's lips. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as he walked out, waving at Isabelle.

When the door clicked shut, she turned back to her new dorm mate. "Want to go settle into your new room?" she asked.

"Sure, I guess. Only if you help me haul that thing inside," she grinned, pointing to her suitcase. "And you can call me Izzy."

Half an hour later, Clary was still in awe as she watched Izzy take one piece of clothing after another and hang it in her new closet. Expensive didn't even begin to describe them. There wasn't one piece of clothing which didn't come from a well known label. Clary shouldn't have been all that surprised because it was very rare for somebody to come the Institute on a scholarship. But it was still a bit daunting. She found herself thinking of her own wardrobe. The clothes were quality, but not ostentatious in any way. Add to that her still kiddish body, she felt like an under developed preteen in front of an already an adult looking Izzy. She couldn't even unpack as fast as the brunette had. Biting her lip, she looked away from the various pieces of clothing and concentrated on going through her book collection instead.

"You know," Izzy said, finally zipping the suitcase shut. "I didn't think I'd make a friend so quickly. I should have known they had suites here instead of corridors. It's so much easier to make friends."

"I know, right? Especially somebody who's going to be in the same year as you," she added. "Wait till you meet Maia. She's one of my best friends, and she lives in one of the rooms in the lower floor. She's the only one who's kept me sane around here," she laughed.

"Wait, so there's only three people in this suite?" she asked, her eyes wide. "And both of you were on separate floors, before my room was taken. Wasn't that crazy?"

"No, we usually just stayed up so late we ended up sleeping in the common areas. And there was another girl on the lower floor, but she moved to another suite after a while because her sister joined."

"You can do that?" Izzy asked, her eyes round as she sat down on the bed. It was a bare mattress on top of a wooden frame, wrapped in a few standard sheets which had been provided. But they had unpacked a different, thick pink comforter and black throw cushions to personalize the room. The colors were bright and clashing, but oddly enough, they described the look Izzy had to her. Girly, but deadly.

"You can pretty much do anything around here," Clary said, sitting down next to her. "You'll see."

"I don't even want to know what that means," Izzy said, just as her phone buzzed. "Oh crap, I completely forgot. I was supposed to meet my brothers for lunch," she said, slapping her forehead.

"You have brothers?" Clary said, curious. "They're here? How come they didn't come up to help you unpack?" she asked, sitting up as Izzy started to look for something. Upon finding a pair of shoes, she slipped them on, and then started combing her hair with her fingers. Clary watched her silently as she wondered what Izzy's family would be like. She didn't want to presume that she was going to be invited, but she figured that she'd see them at some point – even if it was at Open House at the end of the semester. She didn't have a large family, just a brother and a father. Her mum had passed away when she was just a little girl and her father, Valentine, had never bothered remarrying. Given the fact that he came from old money, it wasn't terribly difficult for him to financially support two children. But emotionally it had taken a toll on him. He'd tried his best to be there for both kids when they were younger, but he eventually leaned more in favor of Jonathan, leaving his and Clary's relationship extremely frayed.

" – and then he said that he didn't want to be bothered with – Clary! Are you listening?"

Clary snapped out of her thoughts as she tried to remember what exactly her and Izzy had been talking about. She felt herself flush when she gave her a sheepish grin. "Er – about your brothers?" she guessed, wondering if they were still on the same topic.

"Oh well, yes. Come on then," she said, grabbing her room and suite keys and placing them in a chain which she put around her neck. "I've got them waiting long enough and they get hissy when they're hungry."

"Wait, you want me to come with you?" she asked, a bit taken aback.

"Yes, you're the only one who knows how to get to the boys' dorms. Plus, given that you've been here long enough, you probably know the best joints to eat at, I'm guessing?" she asked, as they both walked out and Izzy locked the door behind her.

"Yeah, I suppose. Wait, let me just grab my wallet and keys."

Once said things were done, the girls opted to walk down the stairs and out of the building. The dormitories for the students had been built only about forty years previously, when more students had started to attend the Institute. Since its first year of attendance in 1914 (it was an inn for travelers for 70 years before that), it had expanded to a larger community and had accepted more students. Apart from the large main building which had all the classrooms, gym and mess halls, the school was surrounding by sprawling acres of sports fields, woods, green houses and lawns. On the east end of the campus was the nondescript brick building which had the girls' dormitories and on the west end was where the boys' dormitories were. Between that lay the beautiful campus. On foot, walking between the two could take anywhere from twenty to twenty five minutes.

The thick air of the noon was still beating down on them as students continued to flood in. Clary hoped that the weather would cool down a bit soon, how it usually did in the evenings, thanks to the sea breeze. The Institute was not far from the nearby town which many knew as Long Beach. It was well out of the way to not be in the center, but close enough for students to be able to spend free time in. It was also where she took the train every other weekend to go up to New York City and see her brother, Jonathan. She realized with a pang that that was how often she'd see Sebastian now, as well, whom she'd been dating for the past two years.

She knew it was inevitable that he'd one day go to college while she'd have to wait for another year to do so, but it still hurt knowing that he was off having fun at NYU while she was stuck at St. Raziel's. He still lived with his cousin, Tessa, the woman who'd taken care of him since he was seven, when his parents had died in a car crash. But that didn't change that he was no longer a school going kid while his girlfriend still was.

"So, you and Sebastian," Izzy said and she turned back to her, a smile on her face.

"I was just thinking about him," Clary grinned, as they saw the school building become bigger while they neared it.

"Oh man, don't tell me you're one of those girls who think about their guys all the time. It's not going to be a love fest in the suite, is it?" she asked, scrunching up her nose in a kiddish manner. Clary couldn't help but chuckle.

"Don't worry. He won't be around much. He's starting classes at NYU in a week, so he'll be staying in the city."

"College boyfriend? How did you manage that? I thought this place was out in the middle of nowhere. All you see here are tourists or families."

"Yeah, but he went to the Institute with me. He's just a year ahead of us," Clary explained. But Izzy didn't seem to be listening. Instead, she was waving at two boys who stood outside the boys dorms. The two of them looked like opposites made to stand side by side. One was similar to Izzy. With his tall physique and dark, wavy hair, he looked every bit like what she supposed Izzy's brother would look like. The other guy's features were just as light as his companion's were dark. He was tall too, with thick golden blond hair which fell in waves down to his chin. His jaw was strong, as were the muscular planes she could see somewhat through the tight grey shirt he was wearing. She caught a glimpse of a swirling black tattoo. She felt her neck grow hot and she swallowed. Realizing, with horror, that she was checking him out, she looked up. Her breath got caught. His eyes were surprisingly light and smoldering, and they were trained right on her.

"Who's your new friend, Iz?" asked the boy, a somewhat friendly expression on his face but for some reason it also reminded her of Jonathan's friends. Jocks who were nice, but also incredibly cocky. The kind of boys her brother had told her to just not be around.

"Guys, this is Clary. She's in my suite," she introduced Izzy, but Clary was still looking at golden boy.

"Clary," Izzy said, gripping her arm and Clary snapped out of her dream like state to smile at both of them. "This is Alec and Jace, my idiot brothers. Jace is a senior too, so I guess you'll see more of him around here," she explained.

"You guys look nothing like twins," Clary finally said, but her voice came a bit softer than she'd expected it to.

"We're not. It's a long story. I'm hungry," Izzy said. "So, where to?" she asked Clary.

Clary was about to open her mouth when she saw a familiar black sedan pull into the parking lot, which was behind the dorms. Crap. She'd totally forgotten that she'd sent Sebastian out to buy them food. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up some other time. I have some stuff to take care of."

"But where do we go?" asked Alec.

"Er, there's a restaurant called the Fat Man. It's really good if you're looking for something quick and their French fries are to die for. Do you know where the train station is?" she asked. When he nodded, she smiled. "Okay, good. Just go down the same road which heads towards the beach, and it'll be on your right. You can't miss it," she said. Thanking her, the Lightwood siblings took off towards their car while she went to Sebastian's. As she walked to his car, she was pretty sure she could feel somebody staring at her back. Throwing a look over her shoulder, she watched Jace as he got into his car but she was certain she was imagining the expression behind his eyes.

"Hey, you," came Sebastian's voice as his arm snaked around her waist. She shook all thoughts of Jace out of her head as she turned to him and smiled. "Hi."

"Your food's in the trunk," he whispered into her ear as he let her lean against the side of the car. She could feel her heart beat a bit faster at how close he was and she licked her dry lips.

"I'll take it later," she said, putting her arm around his shoulders and resting her head on his chest. His heart was beating at a steadier rhythm and it helped her to come down. She felt him hum softly into her ear, blowing tiny wisps of her red hair.

"I have to go home and help Tessa set up the crib in the nursery," he reminded her. She groaned, remembering that his cousin was setting up a nursery all alone and her husband had given Sebastian strict instructions to not let her do anything big or stressful. Which is why he'd volunteered to set up the DIY crib set on his own, before he went to college.

"Stay for a while, please," she mumbled into his chest and his arms tightened around her.

"Of course."

Three hours later, after a tearful (on her part) goodbye, Clary was watching the third season of _Gossip Girl_ on the television set. The quality on it was rather bad, but she'd set up the DVD player after Sebastian had left and popped in the DVD. She wasn't really paying attention to it. All she could think about was Sebastian and how he was gone and how weird everything would be without him. She felt a crushing feeling inside her chest at thought of not sitting with him at lunch or going to the beach with him on weekends. She'd known this was coming, but the reality of it was starting to set in and she didn't like it. What was worse was, she couldn't stop thinking about how ridiculously hot the new boy, Jace, was.

Her and Sebastian didn't have the sort of relationship where looking at somebody of the opposite sex meant giving the other person a silent treatment for weeks. Both of them had acknowledged early on that while they wouldn't tolerate cheating, it wasn't the end of the world if they found somebody else hot. As long as there was only appreciation for good looks without any other sort of thoughts or betrayal, they could live with it. So, it wasn't uncommon for her to find some other boy cute and to voice the opinion. One time, the two of them had even had a discussion where they listed down the hottest kids in the school, just for fun. But what was not normal was the skip in her heartbeat which she was feeling every time she remembered the look Jace had given her before he'd gotten into his car. Skipping heartbeats were unacceptable. _Stop over reacting,_ she told herself. _You've met him once, it's no big deal._

There was a click of a door opening and she looked up as Izzy walked in, looking tired and somewhat sad.

"Did you say bye to Alec?" Clary asked, and Izzy nodded, removing her shoes and sitting down beside her.

"Yep. He drove back to the city an hour ago and Jace and I just roamed around the town."

"Does he go to college there? Alec?" she asked, muting what Blair Waldorf was screaming on the scene so that she could talk to Izzy properly.

"No, he took over our dad's business and is helping him out with it. He didn't want to go to college because he knew that the business is what he'd get into when he grew up," she said, looking thoughtful for a moment.

"Oh god," she suddenly said. "Did you say bye to Sebastian?"

"Yep. He just left a while ago," Clary replied, and the wavering in her voice was detectable to anybody who could hear her.

"I'm sorry," Izzy said, and added no further as the two of them sat in silence for the rest of the evening, watching the rest of the season of _Gossip Girl._

The next morning dawned bright and sunny as Clary's phone alarm went off. She grumbled, smashing her head deeper into the pillow. But the persistent ringing didn't stop until she was wide awake and in a snotty mood. Rolling out of the messy sheets, she moved to grab her towel and toothbrush, before walking to the common bathroom on the lower floor. The floor was wet, which meant somebody had just showered, but nobody looked like they were in line so she went ahead. Once she felt less sweaty from the humid night and her hair had been combed enough times to dry right, she went back up to dress.

One of the few things the Institute was strict about, was the dress code. Although shortened skirts and opened collar buttons were ignored, you had to wear a combination of the issued items which everybody had to buy a week before they moved into the dormitories. Deciding that it was too hot to wear one of the formal pants, Clary opted for the pale grey skirt which was pleated and fell a couple of inches above her knee. She decided to couple it with the full sleeve, crisp, white shirt which she buttoned up before rolling the sleeves to her elbows. Foregoing the collar button, she loosely tied the navy and maroon striped tie, before clipped her hair up in a ponytail, grabbing her keys and backpack and going down the stairs.

"Maia!" she called out with a grin as she watched her other dorm mate come out of her room, dressed for the day. She threw her arms around her in a tight hug which was reciprocated with equal delight.

"Clary! Oh man, it's been so long," Maia squealed in her ear. Clary couldn't help but grin as she pulled back to put her hand around her shoulders.

"I know. I haven't seen you since…Jonathan's birthday! And that was two months ago! Where were you yesterday?" she asked, pouting.

"I got in so late. I think you'd already gone to bed. I met Isabelle, though. How cool is it that you finally have somebody on your floor?" she asked, as they walked out of the suite. Pressing the button to the elevator, they continued mindless chatter, occasionally saying hello to somebody they recognized. The entrance lobby was where they found Izzy, where she was sorting out her student ID card and orientation package with the dorm matron, who was responsible for handing them out to all new students. Freshmen got one too, but they had two hours of orientation, anyway.

"Izzy, hey" Clary called out, beckoning her to join them on the way out towards breakfast. The walk to the mess hall was long, since it was in the main building. But it was better than walking to first period on a full stomach. Besides, it gave them more time to hang out with Maia, who usually wasn't seen until lunch, given that she was a junior and not in any of Clary's classes.

"I am going to get lost in this school," Izzy groaned, twirling around the map in different directions, which had certain bits highlighted, indicating her classrooms.

"Give it here," Maia said, while Clary found them a table in the busy hall and dumped their backpacks on it. Clary took her schedule and compared it to the one she'd collected the previous evening.

"Don't worry, we have English and History together. I can help you find your way around," she reassured Izzy. But once again, Izzy seemed to be distracted as she looked around the room. Her confused face morphed into happiness as she waved at somebody across the hall. Both Clary and Maia turned to look, and Clary felt her heart skip a beat once more. Jace stood near the entrance, his hair messier than it had been yesterday. The uniform which looked awkward on most boys, seemed to give him a careless look instead of a clumsy one. Noticing Izzy's waving arms, he smacked the shoulder of one of the guys who was standing beside him and started walking towards them.

It was only when they were close enough that guy he'd smacked was Jordan Kyle, Maia's boyfriend. She waved at him as he smiled at her, before happily taking a seat beside Maia.

"Wow, you already seem to know my friends, Herondale," Jordan joked as Maia kissed his cheek. _Herondale?_ Clary wondered. She couldn't help but feel like she'd heard that name somewhere before.

"Can't help it if your friends are friends with my sister," Jace replied smoothly, sliding in beside Izzy and grabbing half of her hash brown. Clary just stared at his actions for a moment before turning to her own breakfast and taking an unnecessarily large bite of her pancakes. Most of the meal was spent with her stuffing her face while the newly enrolled siblings acquainted themselves with her other friends. She noticed how Jace's eyes would sometime swivel to her or her plate, but both of them would quickly look away when something like that would happen. Just as she'd taken her last bite, her phone buzzed once, indicating two text messages.

Flipping it open, as she picked up her empty tray with the other hand, she tried to maneuver both without running into anybody.

The first text was from Jonathan, wishing her a best of luck on her first day of senior year. The next was from Sebastian, something along the same lines, along with a promise to meet her in two weeks when she came to the city to see her family. She was just about to reply back, a smile on her face, when she felt herself trip over somebody's feet. The tray clattered out of her hands, as did her phone as she started to tumble down. Except, she never hit the ground.

A strong grip on her forearm broke what would've been a flat on her face fall, and she ended up just losing her balance and falling on one knee before she steadied herself. She looked up, but her gut told her who it was before she did. As expected, a set of tawny eyes met hers as Jace helped her stand up again.

"Thanks," she said, brushing her knee as she bent down to pick up her phone and the empty tray.

"No, problem," he said, taking hers along with his and tipping the remains into the trash before pilling atop other empty trays in the corner of the room. "Are you always tripping over things?" he asked.

She felt a bit taken aback by the question, as she typed out replies to the texts she'd received. "Er, no. I just had a clumsy moment."

"I bet that's what you say every time," he added, and the tone of his voice made her look up. He was making fun of her, and she frowned, unamused.

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you trying to be witty?" she asked.

"Not at all. See you around, Morgenstern," he said and before she could ask how he found out her last name, he sauntered off, out the door.

Confused by the entire exchange, she looked down at her phone. The cursor blinked tauntingly, halfway through the words 'I love you, too' which she'd been sending to Sebastian. She stared at them for a moment, Jace's expression flooding her vision one last time before she hit the send button. She then flipped the phone shut and tucked it in her pocket, ready to go to her first class.

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**Well? Was it a hit or a total miss? Let me know, please.**

**PS: This isn't beta-read, so I apologize for mistakes I've overlooked. But I would totally love a Beta reader. Message me, if you're interested?  
**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey guys! Thank you so so much for all the faves, alerts and reviews. They mean a lot to me. Here's the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy. **_

_**Still looking for a beta reader.**_

_**- Brooke**_

_**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belongs to Cassandra Clare. The places mentioned throughout the story are as close to reality as possible (and the Fat Man really does have the best french fries I've ever tasted. Don't miss them if you go to Long Beach!)**_

_**Warning: Mild Sexual Content - rated strong T**_

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_**Chapter 2**_

"So, tell me again, what happened?" asked Izzy, as her and Clary walked into the Fat Man's to grab a burger. Summer was still glaring down hard on them, but the girls had decided to take full advantage of the fact and go down to the beach. Given that it was still the first week of school, homework was light and they didn't feel too guilty about squandering at the sea side. It hadn't taken long for Clary and Maia to convince their newest roommate that she hadn't truly been to Long Beach without going to the actual beach. The restaurant was busy, multiple beach goers milling about to grab a bite to eat. The entire place smelled of sweat, grease and sea salt. It was claustrophobic and hot, but to her, it was like going to a kitchen and watching your grandma bake cookies. It was _her_ place. Knowing this, Clary also knew that business would get busier later in the afternoon, so Maia had opted to go grab a spot on the beach while Izzy and her got something for them to eat.

"It's not my fault, okay. He's the one who wasn't paying attention," Clary said, standing in line behind a middle aged man who'd decided to skip the shirt over his sand covered body.

"He says otherwise," Izzy said, grinning.

"Of course he does," Clary mumbled under her breath. The boy in question happened to be none other than Izzy's annoying as hell brother, Jace Herondale. Clary, after spending a week around him, had fondly nicknamed him 'pain-in-the-ass'. It was as if God himself had created this boy, infusing him with every quality which Clary hated. He sat behind her in class (Clary hated people sitting behind her in class; the last bench was always supposed to be hers), he chewed gum (the sound was downright disgusting), he didn't use soap after he swam in the school pool (chlorine reek was the worst in the world) and he always walked in without knocking (without considering if girls were sprawled in the middle of suite wearing only pajamas).

Grumbling under her breath, she walked forward, attempting to smile at the guy at the register. She'd known him for four years – his name tag said Raphael – but she'd never gotten around to saying hello. He pretty much knew only her regular order and the name on her card. "Hi, three large fries, three cokes and three double cheese burgers," she said, reaching into her bag for her wallet.

"Uh, hello. _You_ stress eat, not me. Make one of those a regular cheese burger, thanks," Izzy added, shaking her head with amusement. Raphael just looked at both of them and then nodded, turning to pass on the order.

"Look, if he would just stop trying to one up me in every single thing I say or do, I wouldn't be stuck in detention with him," Clary complained, folding her arms as she remembered exactly what had happened in their last class of Friday.

* * *

_The first bell rang shrilly above Clary's head, just as she slammed her locker shut and ran to her Chemistry class. She hated being late since it meant getting looks from her teachers and the somewhat embarrassing walk of shame between aisles of already filled in seats. But she hated being late on Fridays most of all, because every year, her first class on Friday was always Chemistry with Mr. Hodge and he never assigned seats to lab partners. That meant having to make an effort to grab the last one. Walking into class, a minute before the tardy bell, she groaned. Her corner window seat was taken by none other than Jace. She hadn't seen him much in any of her other classes throughout the week - except P.E and Calculus. Most of P.E was spent with her playing friendly matches of field hockey, while he swam in the Olympic size pool. Calculus class she'd spotted him taking a seat towards the front, actually paying attention so she hadn't even bothered attempting a conversation - or beginning of a banter. She was content sitting and doodling at the back of her book, while listening to Simon Lewis mindlessly chatter about manga. She used to feel guilty about tuning him out when she'd first sat next to him in freshman year during Trig, simply because he was one of the few kids she'd known before coming to the Institute. But she didn't anymore because clearly, he didn't car either. Point in case was, she'd managed to dodge Jace Herondale for most of the first week of classes, limiting their contact to after school when he hung around Izzy - until their first Chemistry class together. Unfortunately, the only seat empty in the last row was between Kaelie and Simon, who was grinning at her as if it was some sort of cosmic fate that they would be lab partners again. Grumbling, she dropped her bag beside him, shooting glares at Jace who was ignoring whatever his partner, Kaelie, seemed to be saying. _

_Her eyes moved to the board as she reached into her bag to grab a fresh notebook and pen. The words 'Chemical Kinetics' were scrawled in chalk and she felt like slamming her head on the granite counter. She hated Chemistry. She would have dropped it a very long time ago if it weren't for the fact that she needed the credits if she wanted to graduate. She'd initially picked History and Art in her sophomore year, but her father had been furious. How was she going to become a famous surgeon if she took pointless classes in school? Unfortunately she'd "changed her mind" too late, most of the classes being full by then. She'd been stuck, forced to take Chemistry and Economics, just to get needed credits to pass out of high school.  
_

_"Do you want to hear a chemistry cat joke?" asked Simon, pretending to study his text book.  
_

_"No," she replied in an irritated voice, looking straight ahead to avoid looking at anybody else. Mr. Hodge came in just as the tardy bell rang, his trademark register and tweed jacket in his arms. He nodded at the class in greeting, taking out the register and calling out attendance. It was useless, since so many students skipped classes anyways. The school usually didn't care about attendance percentage, as long as you kept your grades up and participated well enough. Maia had literally spent a semester of their junior year showing up only for pop quizzes and tests and had not gotten into even an ounce of trouble. Of course, that didn't slide with Mr. Hodge who was probably the strictest teacher on the campus - or probably, the only person who seemed to give a crap about teaching rather than forcing knowledge into their brains. He made a note of whoever was absent from class, before shutting the register and starting his lecture. The first ten minutes or so, Clary tried to listen. But the moment he started taking names of chemicals and writing equations, she dropped her head down on the table.  
_

_Thwack! A paper ball came and hit her in the middle of her head. Scowling, she looked up at the crunched up lined paper, looking around to see who'd thrown it. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to her, and she opened the sheet.  
_

_'Didn't take you for a slacker, Morgenstern,' stared back a messily scrawled sentence. Well, the penmanship was decent, except everything was crumpled because of the paper. But the tone of the line was obvious and she knew almost immediately who'd sent it.  
_

_"Mind your own business," she whispered across Kaelie's lap, frowning at him. _

_"But you're missing vital information here," he said, in a mocking tone._

_"What's it to you? Why do you even care?"_

_"Why not? I have nothing better to do."_

_"Than to annoy me? You have a lab partner for that."_

_"Kaelie is much too nice to be annoyed."_

_The blonde girl in question, who couldn't possibly understand Clary's need for remaining inconspicuous, leaned back. In her defense, she probably thought she was making it easier for them to talk. But she didn't factor in her multitude of bracelets getting caught in her textbook binding, bringing them crashing to the floor. Clary snapped back to a straight position, too fast it seemed, because she toppled backwards into Simon, who dropped his manga novel.  
_

_"What's going on back there?" called out Mr. Hodge. Everybody in the front rows turned to look.  
_

_"Nothing," the four backbenchers called out at the same time. Mr. Hodge's eyes narrowed, walking back to them, inspecting the unfolded paper note, comic and fallen textbooks.  
_

_"Creating a ruckus, I see," he said, disapproval coloring his words. "Didn't expect this from you, Miss Morgenstern. Nor you, Mr. Lewis," he said. Clary felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment._

_"And you, Mr. Herondale. I see you've taken it upon yourself to disrupt everybody's peace and quiet in your first hour in my class," he said, turning to Jace. He merely shrugged, unperturbed.  
_

_"Not like anybody was paying attention anyway," he said. Some more students turned to look, interested in who was back-talking the teacher. Clary groaned._

_"I think you can leave that for me to decide. Clean up and pay attention," Mr. Hodge responded, an irritated expression on his face as he went back to the front to continue the lecture. After some shuffling and fair complains, their counter was once again orderly. That was until the second hour, where they had to do the practical bit. The experiment was a rather straightforward one, and her and Simon started to set up the apparatus. It would've gone fine too, except their neighbors decided they were much too busy flirting to pay attention to the instructions and kept interrupting her work to ask what to do next.  
_

_When Clary felt a tap on her shoulder for the fifth time, she growled, whipping around suddenly, glass rod poised in hand. The result was disastrous, as Kaelie once more jumped back dramatically. Jace and Simon reached out at the same time to steady her - why the hell would anybody where heels to class, anyway? - but it was too late. Simon's other arm flung out, crashing the glass beaker set over the bunsen burner, sending warm water dribbling all over the counter and their observation sheets. The resounding crash made them all freeze, and everyone else turned to them again.  
_

_"That's it. Four of you, my office, Monday evening," Mr. Hodge called out. All four of them started responding in protest but the answering silence meant only one thing. There was no getting out of this.  
_

* * *

"I still can't believe that you of all people got detention. Aren't you like a wonder student here?" Izzy said, grabbing their brown paper take away bags. Clary huffed, picking up the cans of soda and holding open the door.

"Let's not talk about Jace, please," she said, rubbing her forehead where she could feel a headache starting to fester. It happened every time she thought the words 'Jace Herondale'. She would see his very cocky and even more handsome smile. And then she'd remember something extremely pig headed he'd say.

"Alright, if that's what you want." Izzy said, as they walked out, comfortable silence surrounding them the rest of the way. By the time they made their way down to the beach, the small town was crawling with tourists. The duo managed to push their way through the crowd and finally pick up the little blue card which got punched for them to be able to enter the beach. They spotted Maia almost right away, curled up with her iPod near the shoreline. Clary unrolled her own beach towel, unceremoniously dumping the bags of food beside Maia's head.

"Finally," Maia said, taking out one ear bud. "I was beginning to think you got lost or something."

"You have no idea how crowded it was," Izzy explained, peeling off her loose white cover up. Clary felt her heart sink. She'd never felt self conscious about sunbathing with Maia because she too had a petite body. But Izzy's body was the opposite of petite and skinny: it was slender and curvaceous. She wasn't like those other girls who looked slutty or as if they were pouring out of their tiny bikinis. Despite wearing a skimpy black and green set, Izzy's figure still managed to look beautiful. Some of the guys who saw her, couldn't stop staring.

"Come on, Clary. Strip. I'll help rub some sunscreen on before we tan," she said, either oblivious or pretending to be. Of course, Clary thought. Izzy's skin would obviously tan a beautiful honey color, instead of just burning like hers did. Swallowing her pride and wavering self esteem, Clary pulled off her shirt and chucked it on the ground. She felt herself flush as Izzy blatantly scrutinized the red bikini which held her barely there chest.

"Ugh, lucky," Izzy mumbled, before turning to her bag and pulling out a tube of sunscreen. Clary just stared at her, before rolling her eyes and shimmying out of her shorts.

Three hours later, the girls were walking back to the school campus. Despite her initial inhibition, Clary had eventually gotten over the fact that she was not going to be as attractive as she hoped to be. Once she'd managed to do that, the girls actually had fun – going out to the waves and playfully dunking one another. The waves had been surprisingly brutal, and chilling, but it hadn't stopped them. By the end of it, Clary's red curls were a horrific mess but she didn't care. Bending over, laughing at some crude joke Maia had made, she pulled the keys to their suite and let them all in.

"Dibs on the shower!" Izzy called out and the other two girls groaned, flopping on the carpeted floor in front of the television. Grinning, the brunette ran to her room, getting her toiletry bag and a new towel, before running down to the bathroom.

"We need to do this more often," Maia chuckled, picking sand out of her shirt, dusting it over the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, if we get any more assignment free weekends," Clary mumbled, laying back on the couch. "And you are so cleaning the sink after you finish doing that."

"Whatever. I'm going to find some new clothes to wear," Maia replied, running down the stairs to her own room.

Clary sighed, shutting her eyes as she felt the fatigue overtake her body. Even though she'd spent most of the day lying down in the sun, she still felt tired as hell. A nice long shower and then a nap: that was the key to her relaxation. She could feel sleep lingering on the edges of her eyelids but she tried her best to push it away. She didn't want to fall asleep in wet and sandy clothes, and without combing out her hair. She would have called up Sebastian to keep her company. But she was pretty sure he was at the Starbucks where he worked part time on the weekends. He came from a well off family, and Tessa hated seeing him work. But he'd made it very clear that he would pay for whatever he could until he got a proper job and qualifications. His college tuition, gas money and personal expenses all came from the trust fund which was in his name. However, he still hadn't gotten over the fact that Tessa had taken care of him for the past eleven years on her own. She was still giving him a room in the house, rent free. Smiling at her stupidly modest boyfriend, she sighed once more.

A sharp rap on the door had her eyes suddenly flying open. She blinked the sleep out of them for a few seconds before she got up. There was another impatient knock. Without deliberating who it might be on the other side – it was probably Jordan – she threw it open. Her jaw dropped. Jace Herondale stood on the other side, looking freshly showered and clean. But that wasn't what made her jaw drop. It was the fact that he was staring at her; or more specifically, her body. Which was only covered in a wet white shirt, leaving a prominent outline of her bikini underneath. She'd spent the entire afternoon on a public beach wearing it – with no shirt on top – without hesitations;but the way he was looking at her made her feel like she was naked. There was a burst of something unidentifiable in the pit of her stomach but she ignored it. _Indigestion, _she thought, _that's all it is. His presence is giving you indigestion. _Clearing her throat and crossing her arms over her chest, she raised her eyebrows.

"And what do you want?" she asked in an impatient and, to her annoyance, flustered tone.

"Don't be rude. Invite me inside," he replied, tearing his eyes from her cleavage to her face. His leer was replaced with a smug grin, as if he was in on some secret which she had no clue about. She wanted to smack it right off his face.

"No. Izzy's in the shower, and I doubt you want to spend quality time with Maia and me. Go home," she said, attempting to close the door on his face. He stepped in, his dark boots effectively preventing the door from slamming shut. She groaned, opening it again.

"Tell Izzy she needs to call me after she's done," he said, his smug smile a little less smug.

"Fine," she said, trying to close the door again.

"Morgenstern?"

"What?" she snapped.

"Don't forget to tell her."

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm serious."

"Fine!"

"And Clary?" he asked.

"What, Jace?" she replied in a sarcastic tone.

"Nice tits," he said.

She sent a slipper flying in his direction, but he'd already ducked away, laughing, leaving the slipper to bounce off the hallway wall.

"Disgusting jackass," she called out, all the while feeling a hot blush travel to her cheeks.

The rest of the day seemed to pass by relatively quickly. After Izzy had left to see what Jace wanted, Clary had sat down to draw for a while. Eventually, exhaustion had won and she'd fallen asleep on the couch, not waking up until after dinner, when her phone buzzed from a new email. Popping open her eyes, she glanced at the Facebook update. She stood up, walking to the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water. Her phone buzzed again, this time signaling a phone call. Swallowing the water in her mouth, she grabbed it and grinned.

"Hey, baby," she greeted, sitting on the couch again.

"Hey, sleepy head," Sebastian replied back, and she could hear a slight commotion in the background. Was he still at the café?

"How did you know?" she asked, answering her own question with a residual yawn from just having woken up.

"That's how. Okay listen, I've got good news."

"What?" she asked, sitting up straight.

"There's some sort of cyclone warning over the radio. It isn't supposed to be huge or anything, but they're closing down educational institutions, St. Raziel's included."

"So?" she asked, confused. "How is that good news?"

"So, school's probably out for you and for me, for the next couple of days. Come home," he stated. She felt her heart skip. A couple of days to go home and be with her brother and boyfriend? And it hadn't even been a week of school yet. She felt like screaming, because it felt like her vacation wasn't really ending at all.

"What about permission?" she said, her heart sinking a bit. A student wasn't allowed to spend a night off campus unless they had written permission from an adult, immediate family member. She knew very well that her father wouldn't bother, and Jonathan was probably too busy and forgetful to remember, even if she asked him to.

"Already done. I bugged your brother until he faxed a letter," Sebastian replied, and she could hear the grin in his voice. She bit her lip, quickly moving to her room. Throwing open the closet doors, she fished around on the floor, until she found her other backpack.

"Okay," she said, grabbing her phone and checking the time. It was a little after seven. There was half an hour for her to make it to the next train heading to Penn Station. "Okay, I'll see you at home."

She quickly hung up, putting in random clothes into her bag as she tried to figure out what all she would need for the next few days. She was going home, so it wasn't like she didn't already have stuff there. But she didn't want to end up forgetting something stupid like her underwear or flat iron, or worse, her allergy shots. Five minutes later, she was hauling her bag onto her shoulder and slipping on shoes.

"Going somewhere?" Izzy's voice came in through the doorway, and Clary turned, an excited flush on her face. "You know there's a cyclone warning right?"

"Yep. And they're shutting down late trains in two hours, so I have one chance to grab a train back to the city. I'm going home while school's off," she explained, looking for the keys to her suite.

"Oh," Izzy replied and Clary noted that she sounded a bit disappointed. She realized, guiltily, that she was basically leaving her all alone. Maia would probably spend most of the day with Jordan. She knew Jace was there but she couldn't imagine him being spectacular two-day company.

"I'm sorry," she said, cringing as she also remembered that their brother, Alec, was probably stuck alone in the city too.

"No worries. Go have fun. Say hi to your boyfriend for me," she teased and then left before Clary could say more. Sighing, she locked her door behind herself and then left the suite.

She made it just in time to buy a one way ticket and find a decent seat on the 7:45 train to Penn Station. The skies were a faint blue color – almost grey – which was shocking given how sweltering hot the day had been. She'd been sure that the night wouldn't fall until nine o clock. Almost belatedly, she remembered how the ocean water had been colder and more turbulent. Was this why? Leaning her head into her palm, she pulled out a slightly worn out copy of _The Catcher in the Rye _ and started to read, to keep herself busy. But her mind wouldn't get past the first few pages.

She unconsciously found herself drifting to other thoughts while her eyes stared at the same words. She hadn't gotten much sleep on the couch, and it had been highly uncomfortable. Besides, she'd been in an off mood because she had detention the next time she had school and Jace had rather rudely checked her out. This was all his fault. Never before had she been reprimanded in class or made to stay back. But of course, it should happen the moment he steps into the hallways. Disgusting, self loving, slime ball. Her mind started conjuring up ways to fry his head over a fire, and before she knew it, her eyes fell shut as she slipped into a nap.

_Clary was lying on the soft sand of the beach, the sun beating down on her skin. She wasn't conscious like she had been, mainly because the beach was empty and the sun wasn't hot enough to burn. It felt like a warm blanket, soaking through her skin. Determined to tan, she let her fingers skim up to her shoulders were she undid the straps of her bikini top and let them fall down her arms, to avoid tan lines. Clary hummed under her breath. This was perfect. This was her happy place where nobody could trouble her. She felt the towel around her jostle as another warm body dropped beside her. She grinned, despite her eyes being closed. She would know who it was in a flash, the telltale scent of citrus and aftershave wafting to her nose. Strong arms wrapped around her torso, setting her skin on fire. She left her eyes shut as she they skimmed up her body, teasing the loosely held scrap of cloth covering her breasts. _

_"You look ravishing," Sebastian mumbled in her ears and she smiled, nuzzling closer to him. He was shirtless, she noticed, sinking into his embrace. She could feel his lips skim up her collar bone, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake.  
_

_"And you smell delicious," she replied back, letting her fingers run through his short, dark hair which she knew without looking, was falling into his beautiful eyes. He chuckled against her neck, pressing a soft kiss there as he traveled upward. She felt heat race across her skin, down to her very core as his arms tightened around her. They were comforting and warm and new in a wholly different way.  
_

_"Oh, Clary," he whispered in her ear and she frowned a bit, even though she arched against him, pressing them together.  
_

_"Sebastian?" she mumbled, her sentence more of a question as her eyelids refused to open. The citrus smell was soon fading into a stronger smell of cloves and chlorine, the hair twisting through her fingertips becoming tangled and longer. She tried to open her eyes but she couldn't. Her body simply reacted to the burning touches. They were uncomfortably hot, but they burnt so good that she didn't want to pull away. She wanted more.  
_

_"Open your eyes, Clary," the new voice whispered and she blinked, staring into the shiniest, warmest golden eyes she'd ever seen.  
_

_"Jace," she mumbled as he dipped down and captured her lips in a kiss which left her mind blank and heart racing at a mile a minute.  
_

Clary was jolted out of her dreams by the train coming to a stop. What the hell had that been? There was no way her mind had just conjured a sexy dream only to morph the guy into somebody else halfway through. No, no way. She felt her skin crawl, both with disgust and desire. Disgust at herself for feeling this way about another boy; desire because she'd never felt that before, and she wanted more. Swallowing dryly, she grabbed her bag and stood up. There was way too much nervous energy in her body to sit still for the remainder of the stations and the moment the train came to a stop at Penn, she got off, bustling towards the nearest exit. Normally, she would've taken the subway to go home – the 1 train from Penn till Times Square, then the 7 till Grand Central and finally, the 4 train uptown (she'd had it memorized since she first went to the beach on her own, when she was 13) – but being in a closed box made her stuffier. Hailing a cab, she got in, fanning herself and leaning against the black leather that smelled like coffee and cheap smoke.

"Where to?" the driver said, impatiently snapping gum between his teeth as he maneuvered around a new looking Honda.

"72nd and Park," Clary mumbled. The driver stopped chewing and stepped on the gas pedal. She could practically feel his stare through the rear view as he checked her out. Flushed skin and fiery, messy hair with a backpack. She looked nothing like she belonged in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. But she ignored his looks and closed her eyes, until she felt the cab slow down to a stop near the curb. Throwing him a couple of bills, she grabbed her bag and practically ran out the taxi. She could make out Sebastian's dark hair from outside her brick building, sitting on the steps and smoking a cigarette. She hated the habit, and had frequently asked him to kick it. One time, she didn't kiss him for two weeks because she told him he would taste of smoke. He was usually courteous enough to not smoke around her, but he probably hadn't expected her to show up so early.

He turned his head, having heard her shoes on the gravel. He winced, dropping the cigarette on the ground and crushing it under his heel. Blowing out the smoke through his lips, he stood up, holding his hands in surrender. "I can explain –" he started, but before the last of the cloud had even left his mouth, Clary had thrown herself at him. He tasted like tobacco and Budweiser, but she didn't care as she let her mouth move against his at a feverish pace. She could feel that pulsating desire inside her being fulfilled with each second as every memory of her absurd dream was peeled away from her. This, this felt right. This felt normal. His hands automatically went around her waist, pulling her against his body. The hard, familiar lines of his torso pressing into her made her insides go warm. She pulled back, panting as he pushed her hair off her face.

"That was unexpected. How come you-"

"You've been drinking," she pointed out, cutting across his sentence. She didn't sound the least bit cross though, and her eyes wouldn't stray from his lips.

"I was out with a few friends. But how come you didn't take the subway?" he asked, his fingers running across her neck. She didn't answer, pressing her lips to his once more, backing him into the concrete railing of the stairs. She could feel him humming against her mouth and when she felt like her lungs would burst from lack of air, she pulled back, burying her red face into his chest. He seemed to be panting too, as he pulled her into a tight hug. She didn't feel like letting go any time soon, savoring every single thread of emotion she felt herself tie to him. She didn't know why, but she felt like it was slipping through her fingers – and like a fucking rope burn, it stung.

"You okay?" he whispered into her ear and she felt like crying. No, she wasn't okay. Something was wrong with her. She was a horrible girlfriend and here he was, being perfect like always.

"I just missed you," she replied in a low voice and he pushed her back so that he could look into her eyes. The dark green orbs seemed to search for something and he sighed. It was as if he could sense her every feeling, read every line of thought.

"I missed you too," he finally conceded, and she felt grateful at his lack of questioning. "Let's go inside. Your dad's not home and Jon said he won't be around until much later tonight."

She nodded, taking his hand as they walked into the building. The doorman, Henry, smiled at her and tipped his cap, letting her and Sebastian into the elevator which led to the penthouse which her father owned. The ancient building had been around since the 1920s, but the plot had been in the name of the family from before that. Although the family office building had been torn down at the turn of the previous century, and replaced with an apartment building, the penthouse was where they'd always lived. Her grandfather had passed it to his son when he died, and Jon would get it when Valentine died. Not letting go of Sebastian's hand as the elevator took them up, she swallowed thickly. She was being stupid. Her mind was playing games with her, from having read one too many novels. Her brain was obviously jumping at conclusions. Douche bag jocks didn't always end up wooing the artsy, smart girl. It was too cliché and she wouldn't let that pathetic idea ruin the perfect relationship she already had.

She didn't even wait for a minute to say hello to Charlotte or Nathaniel (whom she called Auntie Lottie or Uncle Nate), her caretakers from when she'd been a little girl. She just pulled her boyfriend into her room and locked the door behind them.

"Okay, what's wrong?" he asked as he took a seat on the bean bag in the corner of the room, his feet resting on the edge of her bed.

"Nothing," she said, tossing her bag on the floor and throwing herself down as well, so that she could sit between his legs.

"Liar. Something's bothering you. You're being weird," he responded, his arms automatically going around her. "Bad first week?"

"Great first week. Except Izzy's brother is a total dick who just loves to annoy the hell out of me," she blurted before she could stop herself. A dark red stained her cheek, like it always seemed to these days when she thought of Jace. Sebastian noticed, but mistook it for an angry flush instead.

"Hmm…what can we do about that?" he asked, kissing her flaming cheeks. "Want me to come and defend my girl?" he joked.

"No. We can forget that asshole and enjoy our weekend," she said, twisting in his hold, a pointed look in her eyes. He hesitated, but then threw his caution out the window as he kissed her hard. This wasn't like the passionate reunion kiss they'd shared downstairs. That had been fueled by longing and frustration at being apart. This kiss was all desire and he wasn't wasting time being slow. His hold on her didn't loosen as he lifted her up, and her legs clamped around his waist. The world tilted for a moment as she found herself on her back on her bed, him nestled between her thighs. She could feel how badly he wanted this but he seemed to be holding back, unsure if she wanted it right now or not.

She pushed him back, reaching to the hem of her shirt and tossing it over her head to a random corner. His mouth almost immediately attached to her neck, sucking at the soft skin there. She groaned, her eyes rolling back into her head as she felt him reach down to remove his own shirt. Her fingers scoured his body, the familiar view like a sight for sore eyes. "Come here," she said, crawling backwards on the bed so that her legs weren't hanging off anymore. He had an almost insanely lustful look in his eyes, the dark green swirling into dark black with desire. He grinned, grabbing the leg of her jeans and yanking them down in one smooth motion. He tackled her to the bed, eliciting a giggle out of her – a giggle which quickly turned into a surprised gasp his fingers dipped into the line of her panties, teasingly running along her hip bone.

"You drive me crazy, did you know that?" he mumbled. "You have no idea how much," he said, biting her jaw playfully.

"Then show me," she whispered back, letting herself fade into the pleasurable oblivion that was Sebastian Verlac.

* * *

The swirling clouds of the night sky had finally unleashed their fury on the city, a steady downpour lashing down the streets. The patter of water drops on her bedroom window panes, intermingled with the deep, calm breathing of the two bodies on the bed, was a pleasant lullaby. Clary had fallen asleep around an hour ago, after two rounds of what could only be described as 'crazy-monkey-sex' in Sebastian's mind. It had been the second time they'd done it since June – her first time with any guy – back when he'd graduated from St. Raziel's. He knew it had been a huge step for her to give him her virginity, especially since he didn't have the same to offer her in return. He'd respected that, not pushing her during the summer while she'd paraded in and around in tiny shorts and tank tops. He'd wanted to take her on every surface of their houses, but he'd stopped himself because he wanted her to initiate it. Letting her 'swipe her v-card' at his 'cash register', as Aline so lightly put it, had been something he hadn't expected her to do; not until college at least. But she had and he'd been okay with letting her come to terms with it.

Tonight had been a total surprise, right from the moment she'd kissed him at the curb. She hated the smell of smoke – it reminded her too much of her father's study. But she had anyway, and he hadn't hesitated to let her use him to take out whatever frustration she had. Round two had been his doing, he had to admit, but she'd not put up an ounce of resistance which made him wonder if something was going right or wrong. The summer vacation had been the crescendo of their relationship, some of their best moments. He was pretty sure he was head over heels for her. But the moment it had come to an end and he'd driven back after dropping her at school, an uneasiness had settled in. He couldn't help but feel like every crescendo had a fall, and theirs was reaching. It was stupid to think, since she'd told him she loved him every time they talked and she didn't seem unhappy. But he felt like this was the calm before the storm and there was nothing he could do to prepare himself. His thoughts were broken by the soft ringing of her cellphone from somewhere in the room. He stood up, moving to the source of the noise. He found the device in the front pocket of her backpack and stared at the blinking screen. The word 'Asshole' were blinking rapidly and he felt a lump catch in his throat. He heard Clary shift in bed, her deep breathing speed up.

"Sebastian?" he heard her whisper. Turning around, he moved back to the bed, grabbing the fingers which were running across the sheets and searching for him.

"Your phone," he said, clearing his throat and she sat up, taking it from him. He flicked on the table lamp, watching her squint at the bright light. The sheet had pooled down to her waist, leaving her partially naked but she didn't seem very bothered. He watched her confused expression turn to a panicked one and then to an irritated one as she snapped open the phone.

"What?" she spoke into it, without any greeting.

There was a buzzing sound as somebody spoke on the other end and she replied. "No, I don't know. I'm not in school. I won't be back until it opens again. Don't call me."

There was some more buzzing and he watched her roll her eyes. "Goodbye Jace," she said, pressing the end button and then tossing it onto the nightstand. Turning back to him, she smiled an easy smile, beckoning him into her arms. Sebastian easily complied, letting her pull him down so that she could snuggle into his chest. Her curls tickled him, but he didn't care as he watched her try to fall asleep again. He tried not to worry about the fact that she'd saved Jace's number on her phone in a scarily similar way to how she'd saved his when they'd first exchanged contacts – he'd had the honor of being 'Jackass' on her call log for a good three months before he'd been bumped to 'Verlac' and then 'Sebastian xoxoxo'. No, it didn't mean anything for her to do that with this Jace, even if he'd always thought that storing insults in contacts was something only they'd shared. He felt her turn her head to him, a sleepy grin on her face. He automatically smoothed his worried expression into a mellow one.

"I love you, Sebastian Frances Verlac," she whispered, kissing his chest before her eyelids drooped. He felt his heart skip a beat at that, as he watched her slowly slip into slumber again.

"I love you too, Clarissa Adele Morgenstern," he whispered against her hair, pressing a soft kiss to it.

No, he was worrying for no reason. There was no such thing as foreshadowing, and most certainly not when it came to them.

* * *

**Aha, so this chapter was supposed to be much longer. But I had to cut it short to even things out, and move the rest of it to the next one. Also, I know it might seem a bit off putting, all the Sebastian/Clary, to all you hardcore Clace shippers. But I don't see Clary as the kind of girl to jump from guy to guy (especially if she loves one) so it'll be a sort of slow burn. But we're getting there, even if sexy time dreams are a start ;) I still feel like I'm going a bit fast with them, so please tell me if you want me to slow it down further?! Also, I am attempting to satisfy my shipper heart a bit because damn, I ship it both ways. But it's a Clace story guys, worry not. Their time will come. Drop by reviews to let me know what you think xoxox**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Aha, here's chapter three. I apologize for the delay, but I had my exams going on so I couldn't find time to proofread and update. I'm sorry about that. I promise that all of you who've reviewed so far, I'll be replying to your reviews soon, ok. I'm still catching up on everything. Here's chapter 3, or more like, the extension of the previous chapter. I hope you guys enjoy.**_

_**- Brooke xx  
**_

* * *

_Chapter 3_

Clary lay on her bed, her hand absentmindedly playing with Sebastian's hair, who was fast asleep. The continuous downpour over the night hadn't taken even a breath of a break as it continued well into the morning. The dark grey clouds cast a funny shadow over her royal purple wallpaper, and with the sun rays of dawn entering the window through the raindrops, there were dark splatters of shadow across her walls. The room felt cozy and closed off, the chill of the rain mixing with the humidity. She rolled over under the sheets, the rustle loud and jarring, as she turned to look at Sebastian. In the early light, his pale skin looked even paler, almost milky white and his dark hair almost looked black. She felt an uneasiness settle into her abdomen, she wasn't sure why. It was like ants crawling under her skin, or an itch she couldn't scratch.

The mellow silence of the room felt like the calm before a storm, and it scared her not knowing which aspect of her life the storm would hit. Reaching out to touch his cheekbone, she sighed. He was so warm and perfect, she wished she could burrow deep into the comforter and lay with him all day. There was a sense of safety at being held so close, at being taken care of. It was a sensation she longed for, desperately. But the growing pang in her stomach signaled hunger and she reluctantly got out of bed. Finding her robe, she pulled it over herself, after putting on a pair of panties.

Closing the door behind her softly, she padded down the stairs towards the hallway which would lead her to the kitchen. Sometimes, she hated having such a big house. Growing up in the posh penthouse, it seemed unlikely that Clary should find the spacious residence as cold and unwelcoming as an abandoned house. But with its ceiling high windows, narrow hallways and disconnected sense of rooming, it seemed less like a place where a family lived, and more like a boarding house with tenants who minded their own business.

As a young girl, it had frightened her so much that she'd insisted that Jonathan have the room right beside hers. While her father spent nights in the study, working, she spent them huddled beside Charlotte, as she patted her head until she fell asleep. When her teenage years hit, it seemed like a blessing in disguise. Which young girl didn't long for a sense of space which only few were lucky enough to get? With her room strategically located on the corner of the top floor, not only did she have a breathtaking view of Central Park, but she also happened to have near sound proof corridors around her. But there was no denying that the love with which Jocelyn Morgenstern had decorated this home, had long gone with her to her grave. The furnished walls seemed like cage bars rather than sanctuaries; the photos on the walls looked like museum exhibits.

The most haunting part was the silence. There wasn't a single footstep which couldn't be heard on the old wooden flooring. The quiet of the halls and the dark weather certainly added to the eeriness. There was a creak with every step Clary took down the stairs and by the time she finally made it to the kitchen, she found nobody there. This didn't surprise her. Her father, as sadistic a bastard as he was towards her, was a complete gentleman to everybody else. On days of bad weather, he usually let Charlotte and Henry stay home, giving them a paid leave. Luckily for Clary, living at boarding school had made her semi adept at cooking, so she didn't find it too difficult a deed to pull out a skillet and start cracking eggs into it. As she sprayed on some nonstick spray to the pan, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the bizarre dream she'd had the previous day.

She'd never been the kind of person to dissect dreams – once she'd dreamed that her and Jonathan were born to tribal warriors who insisted on eating a little bit of their siblings each day – but there was certainly something alarming about what she'd seen the previous afternoon. Having her boyfriend morph into a boy she'd only just been acquainted with, was a warning sign in disguise. What was worse was, she hadn't been repulsed when the dark strands had blended into gold. She'd been pushed further into Jace, a feral sort of longing inside her chest which wanted to unfurl. It was as if there was some sort of primal urge within her which he'd tapped into, one she'd had no idea even existed, and now that it was there, it wouldn't stop making itself known. It had been one of the reasons she'd so freely thrown herself at Sebastian the previous night - twice - and an unmistakable sense of guilt pooled in her stomach. She'd used him to satisfy a need which had been left at the thought of another boy. In what universe was that fair to him? But what the hell did it even mean?

Did this mean that she was attracted to Jace? No, right? No way! One dream did not mean any sort of attraction. He was a complete asshole, and not the kind of guy she showed interest in. He was nothing like Sebastian was – the boy she was in love with. Surely, it was just some unresolved tension – not sexual mind you – and the fact that he happened to look good. Other than that, she couldn't even stand him for five seconds. There was no way she was attracted to him. Attraction meant wanting to spend every moment with the other person and wanting to _be_ with the other person and wanting the other person to like you too. That was the definition of attraction in her books, and according to that, she was not attracted to Jace Herondale.

The sizzle on the pan brought her out of her reverie and she promptly cracked two eggs, splattering some salt over it, as she watched the transparent bits turn white with heat. Pulling her messy thoughts of the blond narcissist, she thought about the boy sleeping upstairs, instead. She smiled a bit, imagining how oddly romantic it would be to take a tray of breakfast up for Sebastian. She wasn't the kind of girl who believed in women doing things for their men – in fact, she usually got Sebastian to do everything for her. But there was something warm about making him food, after the way he'd let her do whatever she wanted with him last night, no questions asked. Once again, the bit of guilt swirled inside her, for using him as a physical distraction to her mental confusion; but he'd kept whispering to her over and over again to just 'let it out'. She'd done just that.

Flipping over the eggs to let them cook on the other side, her soft humming and foot tapping were cut short by the skittering of something falling over. Her hand, which was swishing the spatula to an unheard tune, froze. There was some swearing in a deep voice and a grunt and she panicked. Shit, shit, shit, she thought, the spatula falling from her hand as she pulled the sash on her robe tighter. Why had she not put on clothes? She moved away from the island and turned the corner. Just as she moved to the opposite counter, her father walked in through the door.

There were certain men in this world who had nondescript appearances, while wielding great emotional and mental power. By looking at them, you couldn't tell right away that these were the sort of people who would change millions of lives, all with a few words and a will strong enough to withstand the toughest of critics. Valentine Morgenstern was not one of these men. From his stylish cut suits, fit physique, neat appearance and suave walk, there was no mistaking that this was the kind of man you did not mess with. Clary had learned early on that the man who'd given birth to her was not one of those fathers who became a puddle of goo upon seeing their little girls. Even when her mother had been alive to shield her from his wrath, he'd been harsh on her - harsher than he'd ever been on her brother. She couldn't tell the reasons behind why he'd taken it upon himself to create her home life a living nightmare - maybe it was because she was younger, maybe because she was a girl, or maybe because she was a splitting image of her mother and daily reminder of the woman they'd all lost. Being the daughter of a Morgenstern commanded some respect, and it most certainly meant giving the same respect in return to her senior. This morning, though, there was nothing about Valentine's appearance that could draw awe.

His usually immaculate appearance had been shot to hell. His pale blond hair was pasty and looked like his hand had run through it multiple times. His dark black eyes were bloodshot, and his tie had been loosened. There was a wet spot on his shirt collar and something which looked suspiciously like a lipstick mark, but she didn't want to think about that.

"Clarissa?" he squinted in the bright light in the kitchen. "What are you doing here?" he asked, frowning, the crease looking near foreign on his smooth forehead.

"I – I came home for the weekend," she said, her hands behind her back. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palm, the pain keeping her steady and preventing her from giving sharp retorts.

"It's Sunday."

"School's off for Monday and Tuesday," she explained, her eyes wandering to the window, as if to point out the rain.

Valentine straightened up, his arms folding. His posture was slightly unsteady, which proved how intoxicated he was, but the growing irritation in his gaze was unwavering. Despite being under the heavy influence of what was no doubt whiskey or bourbon, he still managed to remain sober enough to pick out flaws and give her a proverbial rap on her knuckles. He moved around the counter, leaning onto it and she felt her body tighten.

"So you thought you could just hop onto the happy train and make your way to the city?" he mocked.

She swallowed, not giving an explanation. This happened almost every time she came into town, meaning she was fully used to being ranted at. The only difference was that she didn't usually already have a beautiful morning going which could get ruined, and she hadn't had time to prepare herself. Caught off guard, she didn't know what to reply.

"No, I just –"

"No, you just thought you could have some fun," he said, before his expression morphed into anger and he snapped. "Then, what the hell was your vacation for? Instead of utilizing your time to finish school work or participate in extra curriculars –"

"School's closed, we would've been stuck in our dorms anyways," she replied back, realizing a minute too late that she'd cut across his words. From her father's expression, it was obvious that he didn't appreciate it either.

"One, I do not welcome your tone. Secondly, you don't have to find every stupid little excuse to come to the city. Do you think I don't know what's the real reason you're coming here?" he seethed, gesturing to her unkempt appearance. She felt an embarrassed flush cross her neck and cheeks. His eyes wandered up the ceiling, in the general direction of her bedroom.

"Let me guess, you were making breakfast for lover boy," he said and Clary felt her irritation get the better of her again.

"Don't –"

"Don't what? Call him that? What else is he? What are you doing with him Clarissa? Nothing!"

"It's my life, I can –"

"And you're wasting it!" he shouted, taking one stumbling step closer. She moved back on instinct, but her eyes showed no fear. Instead, she felt angry tears cloud her eyes, the stinging painful.

"You don't even know him! How dare –"

"Watch your tone, young woman!" he responded, his eyes glaring at her with an anger so dark, it would've sent her trembling, had she not been used to it. Still, she found herself shutting up, chewing her lip from the inside. "I suggest you pack your bags and leave. And don't show your face here for at least another two months."

There it was; the door he always turned to. Kick her out before she could cause more nuisance. She should've known that he'd send her packing within the first five minutes of their little feud. She shouldn't have felt offended in any way, given how she grew up listening to all this nonsense. But she still felt like she'd been slapped across the face, every time her father told her to get out of their house.

"Did you hear me? I want you working hard and studying, not whoring yourself around like a –"

"That's enough, Dad," came a third voice and both daughter and father's heads turned to the kitchen entrance. Jonathan stood there, his eyes a storm as he strode over to stand in front of his little sister. The stubborn, self important bit of her felt affronted that he needed to act as a mediator; as if she was incapable of fighting her own battles. But the bigger part of her was singing praises of relief as she let the tension roll out of her shoulders. Jonathan was here. He'd make everything better. She couldn't see past his height, but from the way his back was tense, she could tell his expression was in no way friendly.

"Stay out of this, Jon," Valentine responded, but his voice had taken a softer tone. Of course he would tone down for his precious son.

"I don't think so. Come on, we're putting you to bed," Jonathan insisted, reaching out to touch his father's forearm. The gesture looked helpful and almost tender, but the tensed nerves crawling up her brother's arm were a telltale sign. There was no mistaking the message behind his words: Jonathan wasn't giving the older man a choice.

"I'm talking to your sister. I suggest you move out of the way, son," their father responded, moving away from Jonathan and looking over his shoulder at Clary.

"We're going to continue this conversation, and we're going to do it now. Put on some decent clothes and tell your boy toy to go home. I will not have him walk these halls like he owns them," he said, and then turned his eyes to Jonathan. "As for you. It would do us all some good if you can talk some sense into the girl."

"She's fully capable of deciding who she keeps in her life. I think she's sensible enough, thanks for asking," he replied in a curt manner.

"_She's _right here," Clary responded indignantly, but neither of the men paid attention to her.

"What was that? I thought I heard you say, 'okay, father, whatever you say' but I can't be too sure. Would you like to say it again?"

"No, I don't think so. You heard me right the first time. Let's have this conversation another time. You could do with some sleep," Jonathan retaliated, not budging. Clary's indignation flared once more. He wasn't even letting her stand up for herself!

"I said -"

"She's hungry and sleepy. And you're drunk. We can do this another time," he said, placing a hand on their father's shoulder and steering him out of the kitchen. Valentine followed, reluctantly, but not before throwing a scathing look towards Clary. The moment he left, she felt her body sag once more and a sob build up in her throat. She wasn't crying because his words had hurt. Sure, they stung but so did the bite of an unwanted bee. It was the frustration rising within her, which brought tears to her eyes. How she hated that man with a loathing which she didn't think anybody could rival. She used to think he'd warm up to her once their mother's death had morphed from an open wound to a stark white scar. Instead, his wrath had gotten only worse.

Her eyes, of their own accord, wandered to the photograph hanging on the wall opposite to her. An exhausted red head woman, sitting back against a hospital bed. Her hair was pulled up in a sweaty mess, but her eyes were on the man beside her, her other hand clasping the hands of a little blond boy perched on the edge of her bed. But the focus of the picture was breathtaking. With the morning light like a halo on his pale head, Valentine looked like an angel: an angel holding God's greatest blessing in his palms. His head was tilted to the side, and in the cradle of his arms lay a new born Clary, still unnamed, her eyes shut tight and tuft of red hair falling on her wrinkly forehead. The look with which Valentine looked at his daughter could only be described as reverent. Somewhere in the past eighteen years, that reverence had been lost to resentment and bitter disappointment. The lump in her throat twisted tighter.

"Clary?" came a sleepy voice from behind her. The precious understanding behind that one word, the loving behind the way her name had been uttered - as opposed to uselessly tossed around as it had been moments before by her father - was enough for the lump to give way to a sob. Her fingers went to pinch the bridge of her nose, to reign in the swirling emotions inside her. Almost immediately, warm arms went around her, holding her silently in an embrace. Softest of kisses were placed in her hair and she turned, hugging herself tightly to Sebastian.

His chin dug into her head, but she didn't care as she clung to his chest, one sob leading to another. Just like the torrential downpour slamming against her city, once her crying started, she couldn't make it stop.

* * *

Nine 'o' clock found Clary and Sebastian seated at her window seat, a blanket loosely thrown around them. Breakfast had been long abandoned, the flip flopping in her tummy too nauseating. She hated that he'd gone hungry because of her but he wasn't going to hear a word of an apology, so it was a futile effort. She'd only just stopped crying, her cheeks still red and raw from the salt water treatment they'd been subjected to. The rain outside had been reduced to a shower and there was the slightest of sunshine peaking through the cloud barrier. Already, there was the obvious honking from cars and uproar of the city moving like a giant beast. New York and it's constant need to stay on the move had won against the weather once more. She supposed she had another hour or so before her father woke up and kicked them both out of the house. If the city was moving, she was capable enough to get her behind to Long Island as well, he would say.

"It's not so bad," Sebastian said, his hands loosely wrapped around her waist, his deep voice sounding like a rumble through his chest against which her head was resting.

"It's horrific. I don't know what he wants from me," she sulked, atypical to her teenage years. She was allowed a tantrum or two before she had to start behaving like the adult she technically was.

"That's not what I was talking about," Sebastian mumbled and she pulled back to look at him. He was already looking down at her, his green eyes filled with the kind of understanding which made her feel like a selfish, inferior person. Once again, her earlier guilt gnawed at her insides and she bit her lip. Did he know what the worry at the front of her mind had been? Did he read her so well that he could tell that it wasn't her father which had caused her breakdown, but only contributed to it?

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him with wide, watery emerald eyes. His hand came to wipe away the drying tear tracks and he leaned forward with a pointed look in his eyes.

"I think you and I both know that it wasn't Papa Morgenstern who's got you all over the place. How about we start with yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"Yes. The first time you didn't reprimand me for smoking, or that time when we barely talked before we jumped into bed. Or do I bring up -"

"Okay, easy, I get it," she said, frowning at how he'd made her sound: desperate and uncontrolled. What was worse was, _that_ was _exactly_ how she'd felt. Like an untamed girl who needed to get it - whatever the hell _it_ was - out of her system. She knew that, but she didn't want to be called out on it.

"I just had a rough day," she replied, trying to rub his arm in a soothing manner. He smiled at the sentiment, but gently pried her fingers off before placing his own fingers under her chin. She felt her face being tilted upwards and she closed her eyes, just as his lips pressed down on hers. But it wasn't a deep kiss as she was expecting. Instead, he kept his lips pressed firmly to hers before pulling back a bit and whispering.

"I don't know what's bothering you, or what you're hiding from me. But I'm here when you want to talk," he said, pressing another quick peck before standing up. Her mind was still a bit dazed from his reassurance, her throat closing up in an uncomfortable manner. She rubbed it, in annoyance. Since when did she start tearing up at his sweet gestures? She usually smiled and returned them in kind, whether they were sweet nothings or promises of long lasting partnership. It took her a moment to realize that he was making his way to her dresser, where there was a drawer of his belongings. She watched, silently, as he pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and jeans, pulling them on after he stripped the ones from last night. Tossing the dirty ones in his backpack, he pulled on a washed, dark green shirt and then moved to her mirror to comb his hair.

"Where are you going?" she asked, when she realized that he wasn't just dressing for the day, but dressing to leave. A mild sense of panic began to set in. "It's only morning, we've s-still got -"

"Oh hush, will you?" he said, turning to her with an amused smile as he tried to set his hair right. "You go get showered. We're going out."

"It's raining," she said.

"And when has that ever stopped us?" he asked. A slow smile spread across her face, as she threw off the blanket and moved to her en suite bathroom. The lack of sunshine and bleak weather hadn't hindered the hot water supply at all, which she was glad for. Despite the sticky humidity, the chill in the air was enough for her to long for the harsh heat of water cascading down her body. That, and the promise of relaxation. As she lathered shampoo through her hair, she found herself remembering the first date she'd had with Sebastian.

It hadn't been a date, nothing official, but more of a day spent hanging out together after an unplanned kiss. He'd sent her one text - _we need to talk, meet me for lunch at central park_ - enough to send her in a frenzy of what to wear, what perfume to put, how to do her hair and every other panic a sixteen year old could possibly go through. When she'd finally decided on a summer dress, ballet flats and curling her hair and pushing it back with a headband, she'd looked every bit as girl-next-door as she'd hoped to. Their picnic plans had gone down the drain though, more literally than imaginable, when they'd been caught in the middle of a summer shower. Clary giggled, washing away the shampoo from her hair as she remembered how he'd chased her across the sprawling green grass, catching her as they rolled about in the mud and slosh. In the end, they'd both found themselves dirty, worn out but with the biggest, silliest smiles on their faces. The reminder of that day nearly two years ago, and the deja vu of the situation prompted her to make an extra effort to not push away the boy she loved. Instead, she pushed back all the doubts she had about her loyalty and their relationship to the back of her mind as she rinsed herself and towel dried.

Half an hour later, Clary was ready. She'd been tempted to put on a summer dress and headband, for memories sake, but it seemed impractical in the weather. She couldn't leave her hair open - it would look like a fuzzball by the end of the day. And it was still a bit cool for a dress. Instead, she slipped on dark jeans with a slightly less casual shirt and put her hair up in a purposely messy bun. The rest of her clothes went back into the backpack she'd brought with her; the one she'd be leaving with tonight when she went back to St. Raziel's.

She hadn't forgotten what her father had demanded of her. She really wanted to just tell him, as eloquently as possible, to 'shove it'. But everybody who knew Valentine, also knew that you were dumb to make him angry, and even dumber to not go with his punishment. Besides, buried somewhere amongst all that hurt and resentment, was still a little sliver of need to make him proud. Hence, the lack of hesitation as she once again said goodbye to her room and walked downstairs, quietly and hand in hand with Sebastian.

"Leaving?" came Jonathan's voice from the hallway, just as they'd reached the foyer. She turned, letting go of Sebastian's hand, to throw her arms around her elder brother. He grasped her tiny waist, just like he used to when she was little, and swung her up in a tight embrace before placing her back on her feet.

"I'm sorry you can't stay," he said, patting her shoulder sadly. She shrugged in a 'what can you do' motion and touched the hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry too, for this morning."

"Don't be," he said, smiling softly. "I'll handle him. You guys stay safe in the weather, okay. Call me once you're there, and we'll figure out how to meet up again. Sometime soon, and not at home, okay?" he promised. She nodded and reached forward to kiss his cheek.

"Get out of here, kiddo," he grinned, pushing her away and then nodded at Sebastian - in a manner which she'd come to dub as 'male language' since only the presence of a Y chromosome gave you the ability to decipher the meaning behind the different head nods - before turning and walking back to wherever he'd been before.

"What was that about?" she asked, as she pressed the call button on the elevator and watched the different numbers light up on the over head panel.

"I don't know what you mean," Sebastian responded, grinning before ducking into the elevator car, just as the doors opened. "You coming, or what?" he said, holding the door open.

"Men," she mumbled, rolling her eyes and following him.

* * *

"How was it?" came the now familiar voice of her new room mate, as Clary descended head first onto her bed. The sun hadn't been down for long, but it felt like hours ago that she'd said goodbye to her boyfriend and trudged back to her dormitory. It had mostly been a walk of shame though, and the entire time her feet had felt like somebody had set them in lead.

The morning, which had started out disastrous, had somehow made its way into something she could feel content with. After they'd walked out of her apartment, it had been an unspoken decision to get the hell out of the rain and find some place they could spend time without having to worry about drowning with every word they spoke. They had opted to take a cab to his house in Brooklyn, where Tessa and her husband, Will, were setting up for the baby they were expecting in the next month or so. The entire cab ride had been spent canoodling and being the cheesiest pair of lovers New York City had laid eyes on - so much so that they often caught the eye roll from the cab driver in the rear view mirror. By the time they'd stopped outside his household, Clary's cheeks were darker than a tomato's and the cab driver looked like he was sickened.

But that had been forgotten in a matter of minutes as Tessa had swung open the door and pulled Clary into a hug - an awkward one at that, maneuvering around the prominent bump. Will hadn't been at home, so without a distraction, Tessa had dragged Clary into the kitchen, chatting her ear off for a good forty five minutes about everything from horrifying Lamaze classes to baby showers and Moses baskets. Clary hadn't minded though. Before she'd gone to St. Raziel's, Tessa had been the pseudo mother figure in her life - given how friendly Sebastian and Jonathan had been in school. If there was one woman whose talk could not bore her, it was Tessa Gray's. Sebastian had received the hard end though, stuck throwing out empty moving boxes which had previously housed planks for a do-it-yourself crib. Eventually, once they'd gone through two cups of tea each, Tessa had decided to take a nap and to leave the teenagers to themselves.

Clary and Sebastian had then spent the better half of the afternoon watching reruns of _Grey's Anatomy_ on the television. Well, Clary had tried watching while Sebastian alternated between distracting her with his lips and trying to steal the remote to catch bits of ESPN. Eventually, she'd won, obviously, and he'd been forced to watch her tear up every time somebody died or said 'I love you' to one another. In the middle of all the angst and heartbreak, he'd managed to whip up some waffles for her - because he knew how to cook only breakfast food - which she'd happily gorged on. Finally, at around four pm, when the episodes were ones she already seen and his soft snoring was starting to distract her, she'd shut off the television and helped clean up the kitchen a bit. At this point, the rain had, finally, stopped, leaving an eery silence after the constant hum they'd been hearing for over twenty four hours.

All in all, it had been a relaxed, fun day. It was none of this which had caused her to reach back home with her head hanging low. It wasn't the amusing trip and fall sequence of Sebastian she'd witnessed while he'd tried to help Will bring in groceries, nor had it been the little make out session they'd had in the front of his car before he drove her to school - the trains were still shut down, since most of the railway lines were flooded. It hadn't even been the silent car ride, most of which was spent sleeping or listening to music. It had been the moment when she'd reached over to kiss him goodbye and he'd stopped her, a serious look in his eyes.

_"What?" Clary asked, frowning as his hand pressed into her shoulder, pushing her back into the warm seat. She couldn't see outside very well, but the car watch indicated that it was just past nine o clock, which meant she had to get to the dormitories soon. She didn't want to spend precious last minutes trying to figure out what was going through his mind, especially after such a nice day. "What is it?" she asked, turning in her seat._

_"I know you're not telling me something," he said, shushing her as her mouth opened to retaliate. "And that's okay. I just - you remember what we decided when we first got into this relationship, right?"  
_

_"No kissing in front of my dad?" she guessed, wondering as to where the hell this conversation was going.  
_

_"No, after that. When you saw Aline asleep in my room?" he asked, referring to the little incident when Clary had walked into Sebastian's dorm, finding his best friend sprawled across his bed, asleep in what she guessed had been a bikini set. She remembered the promise, obviously, but the fact that he was bringing it up now sent a bout of uneasiness through her.  
_

_"Yeah," she managed to say, keeping her voice monotone. Their agreement had been simple. They weren't the possessive kind so you could befriend the opposite sex, talk about the opposite sex and even appreciate their sexiness if deemed appropriate. However -  
_

_"Loyalty is key," Sebastian mumbled, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. Clary watched him, as if in slow motion, before harshly pulling back from him.  
_

_"What are you implying, Sebastian?" she said, the waver and guilt in her voice overshadowed by the insinuation he was sending her way. Never mind that the insinuation - God forbid it ever came true - was based on the confusing feelings she was having at the moment. "That you don't trust me?"  
_

_"No. I trust you very much, Clary," he said. "I'm just telling you that whoever it is you've got messing with your head - and I have a pretty good guess of who it is - don't let it ruin what we have."  
_

_He leaned over, as if to kiss her once more, but then dropped a kiss on her cheek instead. With that, he unlocked the doors and waited patiently, a soft, sorry smile on his face. She stared at him for two seconds, not comprehending, before she snatched her bag and muttered a quick, "Drive safe." Then, she proceeded to step out into the parking lot of the school and slammed the door shut. The slam was still resounding in her ears - muffled by the rain which had started once more - as she watched him peal out of the car park faster than he'd driven in. For the first time in their relationship, Clary found herself cursing how intuitive he was to her emotions.  
_

"Awful. It was so goddamn awful," Clary mumbled into her pillow. There was a sound which sounded like the click of a tongue and Clary found herself immersed in darkness once more as the door was shut. The silence which followed led her to believe that Isabelle had stalked off, but she was proven wrong when nimble, but strong, hands made her budge over. The mattress dipped as the other girl lay down beside the troubled red head, settling herself beside her.

"Why was it awful?" Izzy asked. Clary didn't answer, punching the pillow to fluff it before she placed her head on it again. It was obvious that she did not want to talk about what was bothering her, and Izzy seemed to take the hint. However, the fact that she reached over to gently squeeze Clary's hand in a sign of camaraderie was comforting like a mug of hot cocoa on a winter night. There was some more silence, the only sounds being their deep breathing and the - that's right - ever present rain outside. There was the occasional, faintly muffled laughter from a neighboring dorm or the sound of Maia moving downstairs, but it didn't disturb their little cocoon. For a minute, Clary thought that Izzy had fallen asleep. However, the rustling of her shirt against the bedspread proved otherwise.

"Izzy," Clary whispered, not daring to break the silence.

"Hmm," she responded, just as quietly.

"What did you do the whole time I was gone?" she asked, placing her chin on her hands, staring at the other girl. She couldn't make out much, given the lack of light, but she could make out the wisps of sleek dark hair and a silhouette of a face.

"Hung out with Jace, what else? Maia was shacking up with Jordan the whole time, anyway. I swear those two are like rabbits," she said. Clary felt herself flush, remembering the two rounds she herself had partaken in the previous night.

"Did you and Jace have fun?"

She felt Izzy turn to her side, and saw the rise in silhouette which probably meant the girl was cradling her head in her hand, elbow propped up.

"Yes, we did. Now what is it with all these questions?" Izzy responded, and Clary could swear she could hear her raise an eyebrow.

"I'm just wondering," Clary said, wondering how on earth she could phrase this without sounding like a giggly teenager finding an excuse to talk about the boy she was crushing on. She was not giggly, nor was she crushing on anybody, thank you very much. "How is Jace fun?"

Clary hadn't expected Izzy's gasp of laughter. She'd honestly thought that if she got a violent reaction from her, it would be one because she offended her roommate's brother. Instead, she was rewarded with peals of laughter which were contagious enough to get her chuckling as well. She fell back on the bad, laughing and felt Izzy's arm go around her waist as the brunette reigned in her giggles.

"Oh Clary, trust me. Nobody is as fun as Jace Herondale is. You're just going to have to wait and watch."

* * *

_**And there we have it. I'm sorry for the lack of Jace, guys, but trust me, he'll be making an appearance next chapter. And a prominent one at that. Keep reviewing to let me know what you think. To those of you who may have caught a whiff of a plot hint, congratulations. Review and tell me what you think about it. As for those who didn't, don't worry. All will be revealed in time ;) **_

_**Also, I apologize because it's 2 am on a school night and I had to get this chapter out, so I only read through it once. I'm sorry for mistakes I overlooked. Bright side though, I found a beta, so my next chapter will be proof read!  
**_

_**A shoutout to my brother and best friend Hal who's been a great support.**_

_**Also, a huge thank you to all the favorites and alerts; it means a lot you guys...truly.  
**_


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